End of Days
by Queen Akasha1
Summary: BS. AU S7. Spike leaves at the end of S6, but he's needed in Sunnydale. A mysterious prophecy is discovered, and Giles believes that the Scoobies need Spike's help. But will the newly unchipped Spike comply? And has Buffy missed him? Read and see!
1. The Beginning

Title: End of Days  
  
Chapter: Chapter One - The Beginning  
  
Author: Queen Akasha  
  
Rating: R in some chapters  
  
Summary: B/S. My alternate Season Seven. Written before the end of season six, so AU from about Normal Again. That ridiculous 'AR' never happened. Sunnydale is threatened by an Apocolypse (you're kidding - how unusual). Giles finds a prophecy that mentions Spike, but he's gone. Buffy and Spike have to unite to avert the end of days. But can anyone find him?  
  
Disclaimer: Joss is great, Joss is good, let us thank him for Spike and Buffy.  
  
Feedback: Yes please!!! This site or Queen_Akasha@telus.net  
  
Spoilers: Up to the end of Season Six  
  
Distribution: Go ahead - make my day. Just let me know...  
  
_____________________________________________________________  
  
Chapter One - The Beginning  
  
"Life's a show, we don't get to rehearse," sang Buffy absently as she lowered the basket of frozen french fries into the bubbling oil. * Oh My GOD! * she thought. * Can't start that again - Spike isn't here to save me! * On that depressing note, she moved over a station and began salting and packaging the fries she had already cooked. *If I never see another potato again it'll be too soon! *  
  
She glanced at the clock for the fifth time in as many minutes. *Clockwatcher! * her conscience prodded her. * I can't help it, * she defended herself to her conscience. * Ten more minutes and I get to take off the hat. * There were so many things in Buffy's life right now that were far from perfect, and it seemed strange that the hat bothered her as much as it did.  
  
Probably what bothered her most was that she had no-one to complain about the hat to. Two months ago, Anya became a vengeance demon again, but, had just recently decided it wasn't for her. Now, Xander and Anya were trying hard to get their relationship back on track. *Train tracks.* thought Buffy inappropriately, but she had felt that the couple were her light at the end of the tunnel, and they turned out to just be a train. Xander and Anya were trying to make things work, but it was touchy just being around them. The least little thing could set Anya off on a tirade of "When you left me at the altar, Xander." Even saying "We're out of milk," would produce a response of "We had milk before you left me at the altar, Xander." Everyone walked on egg shells around them.  
  
Willow, though, was worse. Buffy didn't know how to deal with her best friend after Warren had killed Tara, and Willow, in her rage, had succumbed to black magic. She had almost destroyed Sunnydale before Xander was able to stop Willow by putting himself in harm's way. Willow wasn't able to follow through on hurting him and dissipated the magic. Now she spent all her time brooding in her room. She existed only on the food that Buffy forced her to eat, and rarely spoke. Buffy's heart broke for her but she didn't know what to do.  
  
Dawn was trying to help with Willow. Dawn had taken to spending time with her, trying to get her to talk. Buffy even thought she had heard Dawn one night asking Willow for help with her homework. * If schoolwork doesn't shake Willow out of this depression, * Buffy thought, * Nothing will. *  
  
The traitorous clock finally moved a fraction, and Buffy's shift was over. She raced to discard the hat and neon uniform, and made her way home in the dark. She thought she'd do some patrolling on the way.  
  
She walked by Spike's crypt. Every time she saw it, she was assaulted by memories and regrets. She hadn't seen him for sixty three days now, not that she was keeping track. She could still hear his voice as he said "Slayer, you might not always have me around to be your whipping boy." She hadn't believed that he would go, but that was actually the last thing that he said to her. She had gone to his crypt to ask him to take care of Dawn during the crisis with the Troika, only to find Clem there. When asked where Spike was, Clem good-naturedly replied, "He said he was going to find something. Himself, I think." When Buffy asked him where, Clem scratched his floppy ears and answered, "I think somewhere in Africa."  
  
Every day since then Buffy tried hard not to think of Spike, and failed miserably. He invaded her thoughts during the day, and haunted her dreams at night. His lips. His tongue. His fingers. And ALL the rest of him. The dreams were almost painfully erotic, and often ended abruptly, leaving her to awaken with sheets tangled between her legs, and usually so aroused that all she had to do was touch her throbbing clitoris to stimulate an unsatisfying orgasm. Even in her dreams, Spike was the best lover that she had ever had and could ever have imagined.  
  
The night was quiet. * No vamps to dust *, she thought. If she was tired enough, maybe she could keep the dreams at bay. No chance tonight. Buffy turned towards home.  
  
Buffy walked up the stairs towards her front door. It seemed that there were lights blazing in every room. * Dawn! * thought Buffy, * How many times do I have to tell her that electricity costs money! * She walked in the door prepared to lecture Dawn about the high price of wattage, when she heard a familiar voice.  
  
"Just black, thank you, Dawn, and a touch of sugar if you would." Buffy excitedly burst into the kitchen to find Giles encamped at her table, with Dawn pouring tea, and Willow actually downstairs and not in her room.  
  
"Giles!" she gasped, hugging him tightly from behind. "You're here! I can't believe it."  
  
"Believe it, Buffy," he replied. "I've missed you so." He stood up and enveloped her in a huge and comforting hug. "I just couldn't stay away."  
  
After plying Giles with tea and deep fried pies left over from DMP, Buffy asked him, "Why didn't you call and let us know that you were coming?"  
  
"Well, Buffy," the Watcher answered, "We've got a bit of a problem. I had to get here as soon as possible. The Council has discovered a prophecy that we believe pertains to another Apocalypse."  
  
"Another Apocalypse?" Dawn and Willow chorused. "Wow," said Buffy. "It never ends does it?"  
  
"No, I'm afraid not," Giles replied seriously. "Now, can you please call Xander, Anya and Spike? We need them here as well."  
  
"Um, Giles, um, Spike is, well, um," Buffy hesitated.  
  
"Spike colored himself gone," Dawn said helpfully.  
  
"Gone?" Giles said unbelievingly. "And where has Spike gone off to this time?"  
  
"Africa?" Willow answered hesitantly. Buffy didn't even know that Willow was aware of Spike's departure - she had been so zoned out since Tara died.  
  
"Well, there's nothing for it but to find him and get him back," Giles spoke decisively. "Buffy, we must make some phone calls. We'll track him down."  
  
TBC 


	2. The Prophecy and The Gift

Title: End of Days  
  
Chapter: Chapter Two - The Prophecy and The Gift  
  
Author: Queen Akasha  
  
Rating: R in some chapters  
  
Summary: B/S. Giles tells everyone about the prophecy - or most of it. Buffy gets an unexpected gift.  
  
Disclaimer: Joss is great, Joss is good, let us thank him for Spike and Buffy.  
  
Spoilers: Up to the end of Season Six  
  
Distribution: Go ahead - make my day. Just let me know...  
  
_____________________________________________________________  
  
Chapter Two - The Prophecy and the gift  
  
"Who can we call, Giles?" queried Buffy. Giles was trying to locate Spike after the vampire had left town, because of a new prophecy that had been uncovered by the Watchers Council. Giles seemed to think that Spike was an integral part of the prophecy.  
  
"Well, " Giles replied, "I do believe that Angel had an, er, associate, named Lorne. As a demon, he had some connections to the demon world. Perhaps he may have some insight on Spike."  
  
Buffy thought that anything would be worth a shot. After all, Dawn seemed to miss Spike very much. Possibly it was the lack of a male authority figure in Dawn's life. Xander, the man that Buffy thought could fill the role, seemed to be incapacitated by his problems with Anya. Spike, whom Buffy considered a poor second, had to fill the gap, as Giles wasn't a permanent fixture anymore. That was the ONLY reason, Buffy assured herself, that she even considered trying to locate Spike. After all, her life would be so much easier without him.  
  
"Buffy," Giles interrupted her thoughts, "could you pop over to Spike's crypt and see if he's left any indication as to where he's gone?"  
  
"No problem Giles," replied Buffy, "A busy Slayer is a happy Slayer." Willow looked at her strangely. "Well, I mean, I've got stuff to do, and, well, nothing to do with Spike, and well " Dawn perked up her ears, "Well, I'm just gonna check this out."  
  
  
  
The graveyard was quiet tonight. Buffy walked to Spike's old crypt without encountering anything else, living or un-living. * Hope there's no trouble, * thought Buffy, although her body was so tense that a fight would have been a relief. * Just a re-con mission, * she assured herself. * Nothing to get excited about.*  
  
She pushed open the heavy door to the crypt, stake at the ready. "Hello?" she called. "Yup," someone answered her from the depths of the crypt. "Who's there?" Buffy asked. "And who are you?" was the reply.  
  
Buffy smiled at the thought of a confrontation. Maybe there would be some relief for her tension. Suddenly, a familiar head popped up out of Spike's "basement."  
  
"Hey, Buffy," it said.  
  
"Clem?" Buffy queried. "You're still here?"  
  
"Yup," replied Clem. "Spike asked me to house-sit until he was back. Say, did I ever give you the parcel he left for you?"  
  
"No, you didn't, Clem. A parcel?" Buffy answered.  
  
"Oh, gosh, sorry, I promised Spike I'd give this to you as soon as I saw you, but I guess I forgot. Please don't tell him?" he wheedled.  
  
" Don't worry, Clem, he won't hear it from me," Buffy said gently. She didn't want to scare him. "What did he leave?"  
  
"I'll just go get it." Clem disappeared into the nether regions of the crypt and came back with a fairly bulky parcel wrapped in butcher's paper. "You really won't tell him I forgot?"  
  
Buffy assured him that she wouldn't, and took the parcel and left, heading home. She didn't know why, but she didn't want to open the parcel until she was alone.  
  
  
  
Alone in her room, Buffy changed into her pajamas and lit some candles before tackling the gift. The radio played softly in the background. 'Comfortably Numb' by Pink Floyd was the current selection. She sat cross- legged on her bed and untied the butcher's string on the awkwardly wrapped parcel. The first thing she saw was a note attached to a stuffed grocery bag. She opened the note and read:  
  
Buffy. I'm leaving this with Clem. God help him if he forgets to give it to you. I can't say any of this to your face, so I'm taking the cowards route and leaving you a note. I have to go away for awhile. I'm sorry if it's a bad time for you. I don't know about you, but I can't do this any more. I know you don't love me, but I can't stop loving you. Believe me I've tried. I feel like such a wanker.  
  
I don't want to leave you and the Nibblet uncared for. I'm enclosing some money with this note. Don't worry, I didn't steal it if that's what you think. My mum had a bit of nice jewelry, and I sold it for the money here. I have more so don't worry about anything. Spend this for whatever you need.  
  
I don't know what to say to you. I don't know if you even care. I just have to try. Try to make things right between us. I don't have a soul, so why do I feel so bad? Please tell me why. Nothing has been this hard before.  
  
Take care of my Nibblet and tell her I love her. No need to tell you how I feel about you - you know.  
  
Spike.  
  
Wrapped in the brown paper grocery bag was money. Buffy sat on her bed, shocked, counting it. * One hundred thousand dollars * her mind registered, * Oh My God!!! This is enough for, well, ANYTHING I need. * She held her head in her hands. * Damn you Spike, * she thought * even when you're not HERE you get the upper hand. *  
  
  
  
"Good Morning, Giles," Buffy said the next morning. "Did you sleep OK?"  
  
"Splendidly, thank you," the Watcher replied. "And you?"  
  
"Well, not bad," Buffy replied, "considering I had to hide a hundred thousand dollars under my mattress."  
  
Giles stared blankly at her. "Excuse me?"  
  
Buffy explained about the note and the money (well, some of the note. Some was private.) "Spike sold some of his mom's jewelry and left money to take care of Dawn and me."  
  
"Well, how coincidentally convenient," said Giles. "As we'll need money to fetch Spike."  
  
"Fetch Spike from where?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Well, Buffy, I called Lorne last night, and he had indeed given Spike direction. Apparently Spike wanted badly to have his chip removed. Lorne told him to contact a friend overseas."  
  
"Where is this friend," queried Buffy.  
  
"One of the cradles of civilization," replied Giles. "Cairo, Egypt."  
  
"Egypt!!!" exclaimed Buffy. "Pyramids, mummys, camels?"  
  
"Yes, Buffy."  
  
"Well, when are you leaving?" she asked.  
  
Giles hesitated. " Actually, Buffy, I believe the best plan would be for you to go. You know yourself that you would be the best person to persuade him to come back. I'll stay here and take care of Dawn and Willow, but I think you should leave right away."  
  
"Giles," Buffy said impatiently, " You still haven't told us about the prophecy."  
  
The Watcher sighed. He was trying to avoid this moment. "Get everyone together, then, please. I only want to tell it once."  
  
  
  
What was left of the gang converged at the Magic Shop. Willow and Dawn sat together at the table, perusing one of the more obscure texts, waiting for Xander and Anya. Finally the couple walked in, slightly arguing. "We never had a speeding ticket before you left me at the altar, Xander," said Anya.  
  
"Please, you two," Giles admonished. "Can we focus? This is fairly important."  
  
"Yeah, bring on the prophetic goodness," said Xander. Everyone looked at him and he shrugged. "Can't be 'on' every day," he said.  
  
Giles spoke. "Let's get to the point. This prophecy is ancient - it was only uncovered a few weeks ago in Egypt, which is fitting since that may be where Spike is. It is in an obscure language, and the Council had a bit of trouble deciphering it. The first part deals with the time and the location, and the Council feels that the next part pertains to the current slayer, er, uh, Buffy, and to, um, Spike. I'll just read the part that concerns us.  
  
///////////////////////////////////////////////////  
  
When the end of days is at hand  
  
The warrior of the dark, suffused with spirit And the champion of the light, thrice born, Bound together by spendings and claimed by blood Must unite their swords in battle To vanquish the anti-christ.  
  
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// /////////  
  
"Of course," Giles continued, "That's greatly simplified. We're not even sure if it's the anti-Christ or some other foe. However the Watchers Council feels that it is extremely serious."  
  
"Uh, Giles," asked Dawn.  
  
"Yes, Dawn?"  
  
"What is spendings?"  
  
Giles face turned red. "Well, during ,um, sex, Dawn, there are certain, um, fluids if you will, and those are sometimes referred to as, um, spendings."  
  
"Oh, cum?" Dawn asked.  
  
"Dawn!" Buffy admonished.  
  
"Buffy, I'm a teenager. I'm not stupid," said Dawn.  
  
"Um, Buffy," Giles asked hesitantly, "This prophecy assumes you have had or will have sex with Spike. I need to ask, have you done this?"  
  
* Oh GOD * thought Buffy. The moment of truth. "Well, um, yes we've had sex," she replied.  
  
"Good!" Giles said. Everyone looked at him. Xander looked queasy. "Well, I just mean that you don't have to do that again. However, has he bitten you?"  
  
"No WAY!" said Buffy. "I'm the SLAYER. He couldn't bite me unless I did something stupid like asking him to."  
  
"Well," said Giles, "the prophecy indicates that you must be claimed by the warrior of the dark, whom the Council thinks is Spike."  
  
"Why does the Council think it's Spike and not Angel? Angel might be the Warrior of the Dark. And what's claimed?" Buffy questioned.  
  
"Buffy, this is just a small portion of the entire prophecy, which is still being translated. However, there is sufficient, er, evidence, shall we say, that the warrior is Spike, and not Angel," Giles replied.  
  
"And what's claimed?" Buffy asked again.  
  
"Well, er, yes, um, Spike would of course know more about this, but I believe there's a vampiric ritual including blood sharing, which is known as claiming. This is usually only between vampires, which is another reason for us needing Spike, as we don't really know this ritual."  
  
"Well, then, Giles," Buffy said. "I guess I'd better go get him. Willow?" she said gently.  
  
"Yes Buffy," Willow spoke hesitantly.  
  
"Can you please book me a flight on line? And take care of Dawny while I'm gone?"  
  
"Of course," said Willow. "We need to pull together now."  
  
No-one saw Dawn slip the book she and Willow had been perusing into her backpack.  
  
TBC  
  
. 


	3. The Arrival

Title: End of Days  
  
Chapter: Chapter Three - The Arrival  
  
Author: Queen Akasha  
  
Rating: R in some chapters  
  
Summary: B/S. Season Seven. Buffy arrives in Cairo. Meets a hottie.  
  
Disclaimer: Spike is MINE!!! (OK, well only in my head.)  
Well, Buffy's so MEAN to him, someone should treat him nice.  
  
Spoilers: Up to the end of Season Six.  
  
Distribution: Want. Have. TAKE! Just drop me a line...  
  
_____________________________________________________________  
  
Chapter Three - The Arrival  
  
DUSTY! * That was Buffy's first impression of Cairo as she disembarked from the plane and onto the tarmac. *Dusty and smells strange, almost exotic, * she thought. The sun beat down aggressively on her head. *I should've brought an umbrella! * She jostled her carry-on ,bottle of water and magazine from hand to hand, digging for her new passport. * Thank goodness the Watcher's Council pulled some strings and got it issued quick.*  
  
Customs was faster than she had hoped. She didn't have much - just her carry-on and one suitcase. It wasn't a pleasure holiday so no adorable clothes - just practical slayer -type stuff that wouldn't wrinkle TOO much - after all a girl has to TRY and look her best no matter what the circumstances.  
  
Lorne had made arrangements for his friend in Cairo to pick Buffy up at the airport. He had told her "Just look for the biggest, blackest, handsomest thing there." Buffy scanned the crowded terminal, and immediately thought she spotted her target. He stood head and shoulders above the crowd and was indeed darkly handsome. He caught her eye and made his way towards her through the press of people, the way seemingly magically parting before him. "Buffy Summers?" he said in a deep and sexy voice. She was reminded of the actor who supplied the voice for Darth Vader in Star Wars. She nodded. He offered her his hand, and hers was immediately dwarfed by his huge paw. "John Black," he introduced himself, squeezing her hand firmly yet gently. "My friends call me JB."  
  
"Well, nice to meet you, JB," Buffy smiled up at him. She couldn't help it - he was so large and SO very good looking. "So you know Lorne?"  
  
He chuckled deeply, reaching down and picking up her suitcase as if it weighted nothing. "He's my chat buddy," he replied. "We spend many hours on-line discussing everything under the sun. How is the old boy?"  
  
Buffy and JB chatted companionably as they strolled through the airport towards the exit, the crowd still seeming to avoid jostling them. JB settled Buffy comfortably in his spacious SUV which was conveniently parked right outside the door, in what appeared to be a reserved space. "Preferential treatment?" queried Buffy.  
  
"Well, I do little favours for people sometimes, and then they do them back for me. The airport manager needed a love spell, I put him in contact with the right people, and presto! Preferred parking!" He smiled at her as he turned the air conditioner up full blast.  
  
Buffy laughed. She stared in fascination out the heavily tinted windows of the SUV. They were traveling down what appeared to be a main street in Cairo. The traffic itself was noteworthy. People on bicycles, expensive cars, pull and push carts, tiny little cars that didn't look as if they'd hold one person, never mind the four or five that were somehow packed in, and delivery trucks with men hanging off of every side, all jostled and honked cheerfully for position in the almost at a standstill traffic. People lined the streets everywhere, most of them just seeming to stand around. And in the distance, the pyramids dominated the skyline.  
  
The traffic, as had the people in the airport, seemed to part effortlessly for JB, making their journey quick. They arrived at Buffy's motel, one that JB had chosen for its cleanliness and discretion. After she had checked in, she ushered JB into her room, and sank down into a chair.  
  
"JB, what can you tell me about Spike?" she asked, instantly all serious Slayer-girl. "Lorne said he gave Spike your name when he came here."  
  
JB sat down in the chair opposite her and looked her in the eye. Instead of answering her question, he asked one of his own. "Buffy, I need to know what your interest is in this vampire."  
  
Buffy thought that she should feel offended, but the concern in his eyes was genuine. "He's a, he's my, well, friend," she conceded.  
  
"Is that all? Just a friend?"  
  
Buffy looked into his handsome and kindly face. "I really don't know anymore," she answered honestly. "I used to think I hated him, then I tolerated him, then he was a friend, but then, I don't know, things changed, and our relationship was so strange. He annoyed me, he told me the truth, he said he loved me, he protected my sister Dawn with his life. He understood me. He wanted me to love him but I thought I couldn't. He said he'd never leave me," her eyes filled with tears and JB had to strain to hear her faint whisper, "but he did. Everyone leaves me."  
  
JB reached out and cupped the side of her face with his large, warm hand, drying her tears with a gentle sweep of his thumb.  
  
"Buffy, this is important. You don't have to be honest with me, but you do need to be honest with yourself. How do you really feel about him? Do you love him?"  
  
"I don't know," she sobbed, crying in earnest now. "I really don't know."  
  
JB sat back with a satisfied look on his face. " That may be enough," he said.  
  
  
  
After Buffy cried herself out, she felt much better. Lighter, almost refreshed, as if she'd had a long nap. JB, she was finding, was an easy person to be around. He had let her cry, just getting up and standing behind her massaging her shoulders gently. He then sent her into the bathroom to repair her makeup. She came back into the room and smiled at him, without any trace of embarrassment. * I should be cringing right now, * she thought, *but I feel as if I've known him forever.*  
  
JB spoke. "I HAVE heard some rumours going around about a blond master vampire, somehow connected with a demon named Celex. The whispers are vague at best, but I think our best bet would be to check out some of the abandoned catacombs out of town. There's been mention of Celex using one of them to house what he calls an army of darkness. I must warn you, though, Celex is a very powerful demon, well versed in the black arts. If he has your Spike under his thrall, we may not be able to persuade him to leave."  
  
"I have to take the chance," Buffy replied. "Whatever I may have thought before, I know that Spike isn't evil any more. And Giles needs him." *Maybe other people need him, too * she thought.  
  
  
  
Two hours later, as the sun was just sinking in a grand display, Buffy and JB were on the move. They were headed for the catacombs that JB thought were most likely to possibly house Celex and his force. JB gave Buffy some direction on how to handle Celex should she have to personally confront him. According to JB, he was far too powerful for the Slayer to tackle, and she should avoid looking in his eyes or listening to his voice. The best strategy, when dealing with Celex, seemed to be retreat.  
  
They drove down a dusty trail, nearing a looming hill. JB stopped his SUV at a wide area of the road. "Looks like we walk from here," he said, pointing up at a black hole on the side of the hill, about a hundred yards above their heads. "These particular catacombs were carved out of the rock. They're more ancient than anyone knows."  
  
Scratching her way up the rocky hill, Buffy was glad she had worn sensible clothing. The distance wasn't far, but the terrain was steep and rough. JB climbed behind her, giving a helpful push on her derriere when it was needed. They arrived unscathed at the entrance to the catacombs. "We need to stay together," JB whispered to her. "It's like a maze inside there." She nodded and they entered what seemed to be a black hole.  
  
They switched on the flashlights that JB had provided them from the glove box of his vehicle. Buffy gasped as the light revealed the walls. At one time in the distant past, they must have been spectacularly painted, but the millennia had faded the bright colours to distant ghosts of their former glory. There was enough left, though, for Buffy to feel awe for the long dead artists who had created such wonderful works of art.  
  
They silently headed down a bumpy path. JB seemed to at least have an idea of where he was going, so Buffy let him take the lead. The art on the walls continued sporadically. In some places the pathway narrowed so that JB almost had to hold his breath to squeeze by, and in others it became so wide that they could have driven his SUV through. There were many branching tunnels, and Buffy was glad she wasn't alone. She hoped that JB knew the route back.  
  
They turned a corner, and suddenly the constricting walls seemed to fly away from them. They found themselves in a large echoing chamber. It appeared to be a natural cave. Stalactites and stalagmites, * Sticks TIGHT to the ceiling * thought Buffy inanely, were staggered around near the walls, but there seemed to be a large, possibly man-made, clearing in the center. The pair made their way cautiously into the room.  
  
Suddenly, lights blazed out. Demons appeared from everywhere. Buffy pulled out her stake and began the fight. From the corner of her eye, she saw JB free a sword from it's sheath on his back, * Didn't even know he had that on him * she thought, and swing it ferociously around his head, calling out a deep and fearsome war cry. She could have sworn that his eyes were glowing green.  
  
The battle was over before it was really begun. JB and the slayer were out numbered forty to one. Buffy saw JB struggling beneath a knot of writhing demons as she herself was dragged away.  
  
  
  
"Hey!" she called out. "Ever hear of the Geneva Convention? You can't treat a prisoner like this. I get a phone call or something!" Buffy banged her head in frustration against the door in her "cell". "Dammit," she swore softly.  
  
The cell was pitch black, and smelled as rancid as a slaughter house.  
  
"Hello! American Tourist here!!! George W Bush isn't gonna like this!"  
  
Suddenly something shifted in the nether regions of the cell. Buffy froze. Her slayer senses were going haywire. The presence was almost.... comforting. That was too weird.  
  
Then her ears heard a familiar voice.  
  
"Slayer," the voice breathed from the darkness.  
  
"Spike?"  
  
  
  
TBC  
  
A  
  
) 


	4. The Cell

Title: End of Days  
  
Chapter: Chapter Four - The Cell  
  
Author: Queen Akasha  
  
Rating: R in some chapters  
  
Summary: B/S. Season Seven. Looks like Buffy has found  
Spike - but does he want to come back?  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Although I wish!!!  
  
Spoilers: Up to the end of Season Six  
  
Distribution: You're welcome to it. Just drop me a line...  
  
_____________________________________________________________  
  
Chapter Four - The Cell  
  
"Spike?" she repeated when there was no response from the depths of the cavern.  
  
"Bloody Hell!!!" was the reply.  
  
"Oh, Spike, thank God I've found you. Giles came back, and, there was a prophecy, and, we didn't know where you were, and, you left me MONEY, and," she realized she was babbling from shock. "Sorry, I'm surprised. Where are you?"  
  
She heard a rumbling growl. "Stay away, Slayer. I've got my rocks back, now, y'know, and I don't think the Nibblet would appreciate me killin' big sis."  
  
"You got the chip out?" Buffy said in amazement. "Wow. How did that go?"  
  
"Slayer," Spike ground out, "I don't wanna have a bleedin' conversation here with ya. I'm tryin' to give you a runnin' start, 'cause of our past relationship. I can only hold myself back from killin' ya for so long."  
  
"Spike, why would you want to kill me?" Buffy asked, to prolong the conversation. She was trying to pin-point his location from his speech. Then, if he attacked, she would be ready.  
  
"Slayer, I told you, I'm de-chipped and re-fanged. I'm the Big Bad again, baby, and I won't give you another chance. You'd better go."  
  
"Go?" Buffy replied skeptically. "In case you haven't noticed, we're locked in here, and it's pitch black, AND way stinky too."  
  
Spike sighed, "Yes, I know. Just feel your way along the wall until you come to a corner. Walk down the wall about ten steps. If you tap, you'll hear a hollow sound. It's a patched area. With your Slayer strength, you should be able to kick through. There's a path goes all the way to the surface."  
  
"Really." Buffy considered. "Why are YOU still here then if you know how to escape? What is there, Trolls or something on the other side?"  
  
"No, Buffy," Spike said gently, "There's not. Please just go now, while you still can."  
  
Buffy was having very mixed feelings about this whole scenario. Her slayer senses were telling her that Spike wouldn't harm her, but he was telling her otherwise. And him calling her Buffy just now, in that tender and sweet way that he used to have, that didn't mesh with him threatening to kill her. Suddenly, she remembered the flashlight that JB had given her. She had tucked it into her boot as the demons were manhandling her into the cell. She reached down quietly and pulled out the light. * Let's see what we've gotten into here * she thought. She pointed it in the direction that Spike's voice had come from, and pressed the switch.  
  
"Oh My GOD!" she cried, and reflexively pressed the switch again, plunging them once more into total darkness.  
  
"I told you to leave, Buffy," Spike sighed. "You never listen to me. Sodding women!"  
  
  
  
TBC  
  
) 


	5. The Arena

"Title:End of Days

Chapter:Chapter Five– The Arena

Author:Queen Akasha

Rating:R in some chapters

Summary:B/S. Season Seven. Spike got his chip out – but there seemed to be a problem after that. Oh-oh.

Feedback:Yes PLEASE!!! This site or e-mail me at Queen_Akasha@telus.net

Disclaimer:Joss created the Buffyverse and then, yada yada yada, no-one else owns anything. Also I'm riding on Stephen King's coat-tails by borrowing one of his characters. See if you can spot them.

Spoilers:Up to the end of Season Six 

Distribution: That would be too cool. Just tell me so I can brag…..

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Chapter Five – The Arena

*BLOOD,* was her first incoherent thought. * So much blood. * In the quick instant that the flashlight had been on, that was the first thing that had registered in her shocked brain. Blood on the walls, blood congealing on the floor. No wonder the place smelled so bad. And Spike. He was almost worse than the blood. His whole right side appeared to be black – she didn't know what from – and he was also completely covered in gore. He had been semi-reclining on a make-shift cot against the far wall. Buffy took a deep breath and turned on the light again. The visual didn't change.

"Spike, what happened?" she asked as she made her way over to him. He shielded his eyes from the small glow of her light, and Buffy aimed it away from his face. She stopped in front of him and reached towards him with a shaking hand. She had, in the past, physically hurt him many times. She had beaten him and blacked his eyes, broken bones she was sure, and probably worse, and that was the worst damage she had ever seen him withstand. She had even crushed him with an organ. This, however, was a whole new ball game. When her hand made contact with his flesh, he instinctively cringed away. He had always been able to take whatever she could dish out. That was how it was supposed to be. She gave pain, he took it. He gave love, she ……. well, that part she wouldn't think about right now. Spike was in a world of hurt, and she didn't know how he could have survived it.

"Buffy, I told you to go," Spike said quietly, as if the last of his resolve had been used up trying to convince her that he was still the Big Bad. "I didn't want you to see this, luv." He relaxed down onto his pallet. "You could still go," he said.

"Well, maybe, but I still need to take you with me. We're needed in Sunnydale together, and I have strict orders to bring you back with me," she replied, trying to portray a "Gung-ho" type of attitude. She carefully touched his un-blackened shoulder. "Spike, what happened to you?" she said very gently. "Can you tell me?" He remembers.

__

Spike is in an arena. He is naked to the waist, and covered with blood and slime. He is also covered with bruises and gashes, one on his arm so deep that he thinks he can see the bone. He holds a long gore covered sword in one hand, and something that looks like a rotting pumpkin in the other. The crowd, mostly demons and vampires and others of the underworld, is hushed. He lays the severed head of the final Kirakas Demon at the feet of The Man. (Spike always thinks of him capitalized.) Spike bows and salutes with the tip of his sword, then lays down the sword as well. The Man stares at Spike thoughtfully and begins to clap. Instantly the arena goes wild, cheering, clapping and stomping. Spike thinks The Man is smiling at him – he can't be sure as he has yet to be able to look him in the face. "Now, THAT'S entertainment!" The Man says, still clapping. "So, Spike, what are you gonna do now that you've killed twelve Kirakas demons? Gonna go to Disneyland?" The Man laughs at his own joke, an insane high giggle that quiets the crowd around him.

Spike gathers his courage. He doesn't know why, but this Man terrifies him more than he's willing to admit. He looks up, finally meeting The Man's eyes, which seem to be no colour and all colours. The irises are twirling gaily. "Something was said about a chip, mate," Spike replies. "Oh, yes, of course, my friend." The Man turns to a tall, black man beside him and whispers in his ear. The tall man looks at Spike speculatively. "He may do fine, Mr. Flagg," the tall man says quietly.

Now Spike has a name for The Man. Flagg. Flagg gestures to two small, hunched and greasy demons that are crouched down behind him, awaiting his bidding. They scuttle up to him, and he speaks in a language that seems to be mostly gargling. The demons go to Spike and reach for his hands. "No thanks, boys, I'd rather not if it's all the same to you," Spike says, not wanting to touch them. The demons hop away, gesturing for Spike to follow.

"Go with them, my friend," Flagg says. "When this is over, come back. I may have another proposition for you."

Spike is led to a waiting van by the greasy demons. They shut him in the back, all the while doing their annoying gargling. The van immediately starts driving, making Spike sway dangerously. There are no seats, so Spike sits on the floor. He's exhausted – didn't want to admit it to The Man - *Flagg * Spike thinks – but the twelve demons almost had the best of him. He had kept on by picturing Buffy in his mind, but now that the fight is over, he can't let himself think of her. *Just get through this next thing and I'm home free, * he thinks. There are no windows, and the front of the van is barricaded from the back, so he can't see where they are going. He lies down and sleeps.

"M'bene, m'bena, m'bela," the tiny, wrinkled black man chants, passing his hands over the back of Spike's head. Spike closes his eyes. He doesn't know how the witch-doctor is going to get out the chip, but he doesn't think it's surgical. There's no obvious surgical implements in the little man's hut – just a lot of chicken feathers, bones, and herbs hanging about. Spike opens his eyes in time to see the man's eyes fill with black. * Here comes the big mo-jo now, * Spike thinks. The small man reaches towards Spike's head. Spike can actually FEEL fingers in his brain, but even though the pain is excruciating, he can't seem to move. The witch-doctor twiddles around in there for what seems like forever, and then triumphantly pulls his hand out, clutching a small metal object. The pain dissipates. Spike is released from his paralysis, and holds out his hand. The little man gives him the chip. "Thanks, mate," Spike says. "You wouldn't believe what a bleedin' pain in the ass that thing has been." The witch-doctor gives Spike a toothless grin, his eyes returning to normal. Spike shakes his hand, and then heads out the door, back to the waiting van and his meeting with Flagg. He's afraid, but won't admit it.

"Lots has happened, luv," Spike replied to Buffy. "I did get me chip out, but I had to be a bloody greedy wanker and want it all. That's why I'm here in the honeymoon suite. Couldn't quit while I was ahead."

TBC

A/N For those of you who don't read Stephen King, he has common characters or places in many of his books. One of the common characters is Randall Flagg, also known by other names that start with RF. Stephen has yet to come out and say that this man is actually the devil, but he could be. If you haven't already, read "The Stand." An awesome book by a fantastic author.


	6. The Wager

Title:End of Days

Chapter:Chapter Six – The Wager

Author:Queen Akasha

Rating:R in some chapters

Summary:B/S. Season Seven. Spike got his chip out – but he wanted more. What else is new?

Feedback:Yes PLEASE!!! This site or e-mail me at Queen_Akasha@telus.net 

Disclaimer:All belongs to Joss. All belongs to Joss. (Have to write it 98 times more on the chalkboard). Also, thanks to Stephen King for RF.

Spoilers:Up to the end of Season Six 

Distribution: That would be too cool. Just tell me so I can brag…..

A/N:Hey Guys!!! Thanks for all the feedback!!! I really appreciate it. I'll be trying to post a chapter at least every other day, and there's over 25. I'm dedicating this story to you readers. It's great to be appreciated!!! Hugs and kisses from Queen A!!! )

Also – If you read chapter five and said "huh?" please re-read. There was a problem when I uploaded, and about half of it was zapped into cyber space. It should make more sense now! )

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Chapter Six – The Wager

"How long have you been in the "honeymoon suite?" Buffy asked, while scanning Spike to try to determine the extent of his injuries.

"I think a couple weeks," Spike replied. "Didn't even need a reservation," he tried joking.

"Why are you all black?" she wondered, shining the light on a particularly nasty wound on his arm.

"Well, I think I'm scorched. Is my hair burnt off?" he asked plaintively, making Buffy want to laugh at his vanity, even in the situation that he was in.

She shone the light on his head. "Nope, it appears intact, just blackened by, uh, soot or something," she answered. 'But, Spike, there's so much blood,"

He chuckled weakly. "Not mine, luv, that's my dinner. I almost escaped the first day I was here. That's why the wall is patched. The guards got in a spot of trouble I think, and since then, when they bring me fresh blood, they throw the old bucket on me and on the walls." He thought wryly of yesterday, when his resolve had briefly weakened, and he had pictured actually licking the walls to try and put something in his shrunken stomach.

Buffy cringed at the thought of Spike being locked up in this hell hole for the past two weeks. "If they've been feeding you, why is it all on the walls, and why are you so skinny?" she wanted to know.

Spike looked away from her. He didn't know how to answer her. Buffy waited for some response from him. When none was forthcoming, she gently cupped his chin in her hand and turned his face to hers. "What's the story?" she asked.

Spike met her gaze, and she noticed that the usual brilliant blue of his eyes had been muted to a somber grey. That, probably worse than anything, scared her.

"I tried, Buffy," he whispered. "I tried, and I failed, and I didn't want to exist any more. They did try and feed me, I just wasn't eating it. I think that's why you're in here now – they think maybe I'll feed from a living victim. I don't think he could know that we know one another."

"Who? Who are you talking about, Spike, and what did you fail at?" Buffy asked gently. Spike remembered.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

__

Spike is standing in Flagg's "office". The office consists of a small, windowless room in the bowels of the arena where he had fought the twelve Kirakas demons, furnished with a battered desk and several dilapidated chairs. Flagg sits behind the desk, and behind him in the shadows is a large black man. The only light comes from a desk lamp, strategically placed to shine in Spike's eyes and prevent him having a good view of Flagg and the other man. * Who do they think they are, bloody Nazi's? * thinks Spike. *Wankers. * This thought doesn't have much force, though, as being in Flagg's presence makes Spike definitely weak at the knees, as close to terror as he had been when he was turned.

"Well, Mr. Spike," Flagg says. "What can we do for you today?" as if he hadn't been the one to ask Spike's return.

Spike meets his eyes. * Damn him * Spike thinks. Flagg seems amused at Spike's efforts. "I dunno," Spike shrugs. 'You wanted to see me, mate. What can I do for YOU today might be the question."

Flagg laughs and stands up, walking around the desk to stand in front of Spike. "I like you, my friend." Flagg reaches a comradely hand towards Spike's injured arm. Spike involuntarily cringes away but then stands firm. Flagg smiles and claps him on the bicep. Spike tries not to wince as his wound blossoms into fresh pain. "You impress me. You really do." He looks at the shadowy man in the corner. The shadow nods.

"We have a proposition to make to you," Flagg grins at Spike and lets go of his arm. Spike grins back with a sickly feeling. This was not of the good. "My colleague here has a small, well, I guess you can call them an army. Very small and unpretentious. However, he does need one thing more. A general." Flagg coughs delicately. "This, of course, is where you come in."

* Bloody Hell! * Spike thinks. "And just why would I want to work for this wank….. for this bloke," Spike corrects himself. "I've already got what I wanted, and I've been away from home long enough. Besides, I've had enough battle for awhile." * Except at the side of my Slayer * Spike thinks. He has been feeling increasingly uneasy about whatever is going down at Sunnydale, and thinks he'd better be getting back.

"Do you really have what you want, Spike? Your true hearts desire?" Flagg suddenly grabs Spike's head with both hands. Spike feels as if there's an alien presence in his brain. He fights to expel it with all his formidable force of will. Flagg lets go with an explosive breath.

"A SOUL?" he says. "Your true hearts desire is a SOUL? I expected more from you, Spike, I really did. A soul to impress a woman? A soul is just a burden, really, you're much better off as you are now."

Spike fights to hold his game face at bay. Antagonizing Flagg doesn't seem like a good plan. "Yeah, I guess I do want a soul. But that's neither here nor there. Look, mate, I'm knackered. I believe our dealings are done."

Flagg steps back from Spike and leans against the corner of the desk. "It seems a shame to ruin a good man with a soul," he says, " but we could maybe make a small wager. You win, you get your soul back. I win, you work for my friend here. What about it, Amigo?"

Spike now has to reign in his laughter. This Flagg is obviously crazy. However, he's not a man to piss off – Spike can sense power coming off him in waves, as strong or stronger than he's ever known. 

Flagg senses his hesitation. "I know a thing or two about souls, Spike. Let's just say that I have a small, uh, you could call it a collection. They aren't that hard to entice. And yours isn't gone by any means. Oh, no. I can smell it, just hanging around and waiting for an engraved invitation to join up with you. Souls have patience. After all, they exist for eternity. Vampires, although immortal, seldom endure for more than a few hundred years. The souls wait, just in case the demon deserts the body. Strange, though, most vampires souls stay as far away from the host body as possible while the demon is in residence. Yours actually seems to want back in."

"You could give me back my soul?" Spike asks Flagg incredulously. "With no catches? Like, I have to give it to you when I'm done with it?"

Flagg laughs. "Well, that would be an added bonus, but, no, it would be yours free and clear. IF you win our little wager. If you lose, though, you remain soul-less, and become the commander of my friend's army. What do you say? Do we have a deal?"

"What do I have to do," Spike asks. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Well, Buffy, I made a bet," Spike began, "with a very bad Man."

TBC

OOH!!! A BET!!! I wonder what it was about? Stay tuned – same time, same bat channel. More stuff, comin up!!! (Quicker if you review!! – hint hint!)


	7. The Escape

Title:End of Days

Chapter:Chapter Seven – The Escape

Author:Queen Akasha

Rating:R in some chapters

Summary:B/S. Season Seven. What's with Spike's new attitude? And are they gonna get out of the stinky place? 

Feedback:Yes PLEASE!!! This site or e-mail me at Queen_Akasha@telus.net

Disclaimer:OK. So I own Spike. Or I will. I'm doing some MAJOR wicca stuff to get Joss to fork him over. I'll also take Oz and, OK, Angel can come and do my yard work (among other stuff). And, OK, Lorne too. I have a very odd "thing" for the green guy. I think it's the complexion – and he's such a dapper dresser ………

Spoilers:Up to the end of Season Six 

Distribution: I have no idea why you'd want to - however go ahead. Just let me know…..

A/NHave had a great deal of trouble logging in to FF.net. Sorry for the delay in posting. Please feed me, huh???? Pretty please???

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"Before you tell me what I'm sure will be a very interesting story, we have to get out of here," Buffy said to Spike. They were trapped in a cell, deep in the catacombs, by a demon Buffy thought was named Celex.

"Buffy." Spike said seriously. "There is a way out. I meant it when I told you before. Just go down the wall ten feet, find the patched spot and kick it out. I'm pretty sure the tunnel goes to the surface. You can make it – Slayer and all."

"Of course I could," she replied, "But unfortunately I think I have to take you with me. Giles said." 

Spike took both of her hands in his, and looked her in the eyes. In the dwindling light of her flashlight, she could see how serious he really was. "Luv, you need to go on your own. I can't, er, well," he hesitated, " I can't, um, walk. No strength," he said shamefully, looking away.

"Spike, you're coming with me. Even if I have to carry you." She saw the look of humiliation on his face and tried to soften her words. "Though you're way strong, and I'm sure you could make it if you tried."

Spike smiled gently. "Buffy, I'm wounded and haven't eaten in about two weeks. It's an effort to even lie here – I know I couldn't walk away. Please just go without me."

"Well, I can't bandage your wounds," she said, all business-like, " but what's around here for you to eat?"

"Nothing," he replied, consciously not thinking of the blood spattered walls. "No food equals no strength. Sorry, luv, you're just gonna have to go it alone." 

"No," said Buffy, thinking furiously. "Wait a minute!" she said excitedly. "Isn't Slayer's blood very nutritious for vampires?" She looked at Spike expectantly.

Spike was so repelled he actually fell backwards, away from her. "That isn't going to happen, Buffy," he said with great resolve. "You're going to go, and I'm going to stay. Remember, evil, soul-less thing here? Deserving of suffering and pain?"

Buffy looked at Spike. She REALLY looked at him. She'd seen him many times in the past, of course, but always as some type of fixture. Even during their most passionate sexual encounters, she had only seen the image, had never really seen HIM. What she saw surprised her. She couldn't equate her stereotyped image of the vampire killer with the man she saw in front of her. She didn't know when exactly he had altered his persona, she only knew that he had grown and changed in ways that she hadn't really noticed or believed until now. She thought of how Spike treated her, and how she had always treated him, as something beneath her notice, unless she needed him. Then he was always there for her. She thought of him saying *I'm in love with you *, and her replying * You're in love with PAIN. * She thought that both of them might be right, as if in loving her he had to take a hefty side-dish of suffering. She thought of how she felt the first time they'd had sex (can you call a joining of elemental forces just sex?) She remembered the naked look of surprise, love, and gratitude in his eyes as she lowered herself onto him. For the first time, she allowed herself to totally feel the surge of passion and, something else?, that had engulfed her and encouraged her to continue. She remembered the way that he had worshipped her body that night – as if he felt he wasn't worthy of her affections. 

What had he ever done wrong, that was out of character? Only fall in love with her. She now believed with all her heart that he did love her. And she felt guilty, as if she was a school-yard bully that had been picking on a defenseless kid. For, Buffy had a sudden epiphany, Spike was still emotionally a child. And she, who considered herself so superior, was way more immature than he had ever been. He, at least, told it like it was. He told the truth and damn the consequences. She hid everything under a façade of normalcy, and, who was she kidding, her life would NEVER be normal. 

Buffy had never been accused of not being impulsive. All of these thoughts flashed though her mind in a moment. Still looking at Spike, she walked over to the portion of the wall he had indicated. "Here?" she said to him, pointing to a discoloured area. When he nodded, she let fly with a tremendous kick to the rock. It only took four times before she had a hole through the wall. Ignoring the pain in her leg from kicking such a solid object, she booted it again, this time causing a minor rock slide. When the dust cleared a bit, she could see that there was a hole big enough to squeeze through. She shone her failing flashlight into the blackness, confirming that it did indeed seem to be a tunnel. Buffy reached out and broke a jagged rock from the wall. She sliced her left wrist with it, deeper than she had meant to, as the blood started to flow rather copiously. She held it to Spike's lips. "Drink," she said.

Spike looked at Buffy's wrist, the rich, coppery blood flowing from her self-inflicted wound. The scent of it almost drove him wild, beyond control. It didn't smell like food, though, but of love and power. This was the scent that he had hoped they would create together. With his last ounce of self-control, Spike grabbed her wrist, trying to force it away from himself. "No," he said quietly, "I just can't, Buffy. Please just leave me here."

Buffy had never been so surprised in her life. SPIKE – turning down SLAYER blood? *Like bongs for vampires , * she thought inappropriately. Well, she'd deal with the ramifications of this later. Right now, she had to get them out of there – BOTH of them. And she needed him at least on his feet. "Sorry, Spikey, can't do that," she whispered, slipping her uninjured arm behind his head, and placing her bleeding wrist directly over his mouth. "Just drink a little, OK?"

Overwhelmed, and unable to fight both Buffy and his nature any more, Spike opened his lips and allowed the first drops of the live-giving substance to slide down his throat. Its heat burned him on the way down, exploding in the pit of his stomach with a strengthening fire. He tentatively wrapped his lips around the wound, and gently sucked. Buffy felt as if an electric spark was running through her whole body. Her nipples hardened, and she felt a tingling in her groin. * If this was how it felt to be feasted on by a vampire, no wonder there were vamp groupies, * she thought dreamily. Spike sucked harder, causing her to moan. The almost sexual sound spurred him on. His canines involuntarily elongated, and he grabbed her wrist with both hands and continued to feed more forcefully. 

Buffy closed her eyes. The feelings that Spike was creating in her were almost too strong. She never wanted him to stop. She wondered if it was always like that for victims – she didn't think so, though. She resolved to ask Spike about it AFTER they had gotten out. Speaking of which, she really should stop him. She wanted him able to move, but she didn't want her strength too depleted. * Just, one more minute, * she thought, and sighed deeply. Spike immediately removed his lips from her flesh.

"Are you OK, Buffy?" he asked with concern. "Did I hurt you?" He sounded very sorry and contrite. She was again amazed at his control – his ability to stop when she was sure his whole body was crying for sustenance. 

"No, I'm OK," she said. *Very OK, indeed, * she thought. She felt good, very slightly light-headed, with an almost sexual afterglow. Strange, and worth exploring in the future. "How about you. Do you think you could walk now?"

Spike experimentally sat up. "Actually, I do think I could. Slayer blood is very potent." He reached down and ripped a strip from the bottom of her shirt, and pressed it against her wrist. "Put some pressure on that, luv," he said. She sat until the bleeding had stopped, and then Spike bound the cut.

Buffy stood and gave Spike a hand up. He stood on his feet, swaying a bit. Buffy bit her lip at the extent of his injuries. It was difficult to tell how badly he was damaged, since one whole side appeared to be blackened and scorched, and of course his whole frame was covered in dried and congealing blood, but there was for sure a very deep and probably painful gash on his left upper arm.

Spike reached behind him and picked up his duster, which he had been lying on to try and cushion his injured body from the rocks. "Smartest thing I did was take this thing off for the battle. If I hadn't, it would have been toast."

"Battle?" Buffy said, raising her eyebrows. "I'm dying to hear about it, but perhaps we should…..?" she indicated the hole in the wall.

Spike gingerly shrugged on his duster, and motioned at the opening. "After you," he said politely. 

Buffy looked at him sideways, and then shimmied through the hole, enlarging it as she went to accommodate Spike's larger frame. Once through, she turned and gave Spike her hand. She had to do considerable pulling – apparently she hadn't made the hole quite big enough. She worried that he was going to be injured more from her than he already was, but Spike stoically didn't make a sound as she tugged. She saw his face grimacing though, and made a heroic last effort. He popped out of the hole like a cork from a champagne bottle, and flew into Buffy with some force, causing her to fall over and take him with her. She smiled at their compromising position – her on her back with him between her legs. They'd been here before. Spike, though, immediately got to his feet, and, apologizing, helped her up.

*Weird, * she thought. *Any other time he'd have been grinding against me, saying trashy things. * She sighed wistfully, and then checked herself. *And of course that would have been disgusting. Grinding is bad. * And she made a mental note to discover why Spike was doing things that were so out of character – as soon as they got a chance.

Buffy's little flashlight was almost drained. Luckily, Spike had vampiric sight, and could faintly see when Buffy shut off the light. He sniffed the air, glancing at Buffy strangely, before deciding that fresh air and escape was likely to the right.

They followed the tunnel, sometimes backtracking as Spike deemed necessary. They didn't speak, but Spike held her hand to lead her, as if crossing a little tyke across the street. The blood he had consumed, even though it was Slayer's blood, was rapidly being used up by his undernourished and battered body, and he hoped that he'd be able to get them out before he collapsed. He looked back at Buffy, who was following him trustingly. When they had fallen getting him out of the cell, he was surprised to scent the musk of her arousal. This was an interesting addition to the mix. He loved her, and was pleased that her body still responded so strongly to his. However Spike wanted the whole package, body, heart and soul. At the very least, though, this gave him hope.

Sensing more than scenting that the tunnel opening was near, Spike gave Buffy's hand a warning squeeze. She squeezed back as they hunkered down, scoping the area for any guards. * Lucky it's evening * Buffy thought. * It would suck to save him and then turn him into a crispy critter.*

When Spike deemed it safe, they proceeded. Walking out into the fresh air, Buffy breathed deeply. She had become used to the stench of the catacombs, and it was a treat to breathe the clean air. Spike was becoming obviously weaker, and she slung his arm over her shoulder to help him down the side of the mountain to the road that her eyes could pick out in the starlight. 

Buffy avoided any major obstacles in their descent, but did stumble a few times, as Spike no longer had any strength and was leaning heavily on her. As they made it to the road, a pair of headlights unexpectedly sprang to life. Buffy thrust Spike behind her protectively. He was unable to protest, just stood there swaying with weariness.

Suddenly, a familiar deep voice spoke out. "Buffy, is that you?"

"JB?" Buffy cried, feeling weak at the knees. "Thank God you're here."

"You found him then, did you?" JB said to her, coming around the vehicle into the light. "I had a feeling that you would be here. Let's get him into the car. It's much too dangerous to stand around here."

JB walked to Spike's side and lifted him off his feet with the ease of picking up a child. Spike looked up at him through blurred eyes. 

"YOU!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here? Buffy, get away, he's……." Spike's head lolled to the side as he finally passed out.

"He's WHAT?" Buffy said to JB. "What's going on here? How did you know we'd be here? And why does Spike want me to get away?"

"Buffy," JB sighed. "You do deserve an explanation, but right now we really HAVE to get out of here. I promise I'll tell you everything as soon as we're safe and your vampire is all right. OK?"

His presence and demeanor made Buffy feel comforted and safe, much like she felt with Giles. She decided to go with her first instinct and trust him.

" OK, JB," she said. "But you're gonna have some major explaining to do."

************************************************************

TBC

OOH!!! What's the scoop with JB? Let me know if you're enjoying so far …… )


	8. The Revelation

Title:End of Days

Chapter:Chapter Eight – The Revelation

Author:Queen Akasha

Rating:R in some chapters

Summary:B/S. Season Seven. OK – they're out of the cell. What now? And why was Spike so freaked out over JB?

Feedback: I'd love it!!!! This site or e-mail me at Queen_Akasha@telus.net

Disclaimer:I KNOW!!! My therapists say it's all in my head. They're all trying to tell me that Sunnydale isn't real. Can you believe that????? If Sunny D wasn't real, then SPIKE wouldn't be real, and that would be, well, crazy, wouldn't it? Cause I know for sure he's real. It's impossible to imagine anyone that fine being in my head. They tell me that someone named Joss owns him. I don't think that he can be "owned". (Except by me of course.)

Spoilers:Up to the end of Season Six. This is my fictional season seven. 

Distribution: Sure, if you WANNA. Let me know, K?

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Buffy rode in silence back to her motel. JB had gently placed Spike on the back seat, settling him as comfortably as he could. She knew that she should question JB about some of the issues that his presence during their escape had raised, but she just didn't feel like it right now. She was strangely satisfied just to have found Spike. She didn't let herself think about it, but, she promised herself she would. Later. And that was OK. Generally she shied away from being too introspective, but she instinctively knew that it was soon time. She needed to have a 'talk' with herself. But not now.

JB, on the other hand, was conversational. He spoke to her about casual things – the scenery, the tourists, the weather – calmly and soothingly in his deep and comforting voice. He didn't seem to expect a response and she didn't give it to him. Just the sound of his voice seemed to relax her. By the time that they had arrived at her motel, she felt better and in charge of the situation. 

Since no other motel patrons seemed to be about, she directed JB to carry the still unconscious Spike into her room. She watched anxiously as the big man laid Spike on the bed. JB turned to her questioningly.

"I guess the first thing we need to do is get him cleaned up," Buffy said. "I can't tell how badly he's hurt."

"The best thing to do is just plunk him in the tub," JB agreed. "Once we get some of this gook off of him we can assess damage."

JB raised Spike while Buffy gently took off his duster. His shirt wasn't worth saving, so she just ripped it off. His jeans she carefully slid down over his hips, relieved not to find further injuries underneath. When Spike was naked, Buffy went into the small bathroom and ran the tub. JB cautiously lifted Spike and placed him into the water, which immediately took on a reddish hue. Buffy splashed and rinsed him as best as she could, and then drained the tub, starting again with fresh water. The blood was rinsing off fairly well, as was the black soot that covered one side of him.

JB watched her ministering to the vampire for a few minutes; using the detachable shower head to rinse some of the filth from the vampire's hair, and then asked her "Will you be OK on your own for awhile? There's some things I should get for when he wakes up."

Buffy nodded her agreement, and listened as JB left the motel room, locking the door behind him. She drained and ran the tub for a third time. This time the water was only slightly pinkish.

*Alone with naked Spike, * she thought. *Alone with naked HELPLESS Spike, * she amended. She felt strange, almost voyeuristic, as she surveyed his body. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen him naked before. It was just that this time it seemed that he was MORE naked – if he'd had a soul she'd have thought that it was bared to her. She shrugged off these thoughts. *Later,* she promised herself.

The water was becoming cool, and there was no JB in sight. Spike seemed to be cleansed enough, and Buffy thought that he should be out of the tub. * Well, Slayer strength and all * she thought, as she pulled the plug out of the tub and gently hoisted Spike onto her shoulder. She staggered under his unbalanced weight, and carefully laid him on the bed.

The blaze of lights in the main room might bother his eyes, she thought, and she walked to the door to turn off the main switch. She looked back at him, lying in naked splendor on the bed. Even emaciated and battered, he reminded her of a Michelangelo statue, or perhaps a fallen angel. Her breath caught as she realized that he was INDEED a fallen angel. What were Lucifer and his minions if not fallen angels? Oh, she was really thinking too much. This boded nothing but trouble. 

She walked over to the bed and looked down at Spike. Now that the blood and soot were cleansed from him, she wanted to take stock of his injuries, which seemed to mostly consist of severe bruising, except for the appalling cut on his arm. She pulled the blankets up over him. Looking at his body seemed to be very disturbing to her, and she wanted to avoid that right now. *Later,* she thought. She'd think of all this later. She took the extra blanket out of the closet and covered the window with it. The blinds seemed adequate, but she didn't want the morning sunlight to damage Spike any more than he was already. 

Tidying the room while waiting for JB to return, she picked up Spike's discarded duster, meaning to hang it in the closet. * I think I love this duster almost as much as I love Spike, * she thought, walking to the closet. Then the implication of what she had thought hit her, and forced her to stop. Apparently, LATER was now. No-one could force her to deal with her feelings for Spike. No-one but herself.

She walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge, gazing at his peaceful face. *You can lie to anyone, * she thought, * but not to yourself. At least not for long. * For she realized that she had indeed been lying to herself for awhile now, not admitting the strength of her feelings for Spike. As hard as it was to face the truth, she realized that she did love him. Even after everything that had transpired between them – the pain she had caused him, and the pain he had caused her– all the pain and suffering and bad feelings were suddenly overwhelmed by her knowledge of his love for her and her love for him. It was as if shutters had covered her eyes, and had only just now been lifted. * I've loved him ALWAYS, * she thought. * I was just scared. Scared to even admit it to myself. What a hero I am, * she thought mockingly. 

But everyone she loved left her. Even Spike. However, if she was to be honest with herself, which seemed to be the pattern of her day, she had driven him away – telling him to move on and that she couldn't and didn't love him. * Little bit of self-preservation there,* she thought. * If I get rid of him first then he can't get rid of me. * And she wondered where these self-deprecatory feelings came from.

She gazed down at his peaceful face, and slowly reached down and touched his cheek. His skin felt smooth and cool. Unbidden, the thought of him being touched by Drucilla came into her mind, and she felt herself flushing. *Well of course, I'm jealous, * she thought. *After all, I am in love with him, * she thought, to familiarize herself with her new situation. She realized that he was hers as much as she was his, forever. The strength of her feelings could not be denied. She had thought that Angel was her forever soul-mate. She realized now that while she loved Angel, she wasn't IN LOVE with him. (Evidently, there was a big difference.) 

Buffy had been gently cupping Spike's cheek while she thought. She began lightly rubbing his face, and was pleased to note a response. * He's finally coming around, * she thought, as he sighed with pleasure at her touch. However, he didn't wake. She continued to stroke him, spurred on by his evident enjoyment. She moved the blanket from his now warmed body, running her hand down his chest. His excitement was immediately evident. She was amazed at his body's response to her. 

She felt the same way, though. From either the sight or touch of him, she had become incredibly aroused. * Great, * she thought wryly, *Now I'm stooping to thoughts of molesting a guy in a coma. * 

Buffy was startled by the sound of a key in the door. She guiltily pulled the blanket back up over Spike, and pretended to be studying the cut in his arm as JB walked into the room, carrying a grocery bag. 

"How's he doing?" JB asked, emptying the bag and putting some of the contents – bags of blood and a bag of fruit – into the small refrigerator in the room. He reached into the bottom of the sack and pulled out some gauze and tape.

"Not as bad as I had first thought," Buffy replied. "Mainly just bruised and starved. The worst thing is this nasty cut on his arm. I can see bone."

JB leaned over Spike. "Well, Buffy, if you're willing, the quickest way to fix that is with Slayer's blood."

Buffy looked up, puzzled. "He already drank from me, and that didn't fix it."

"Maybe not, but I'm sure that it helped. However, I meant direct application." JB looked down at her. "If you want to, that is."

"Why not," Buffy sighed. "My last cut was just starting to heal. Can't have that now, can we?"

JB reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded knife, handing it to Buffy. "Maybe just a little nick on your palm," he suggested.

Buffy unfolded the blade. JB turned his back to her, saying "I really don't like the sight of blood." Buffy smiled at the thought of such a large man being scared of a little bit of fresh blood, when he had carried the incredibly bloody Spike around. She ran the sharp blade down the center of her left palm. Blood immediately welled up in the cut, and she pressed her dripping hand to Spike's wound.

"Just be careful not to mix his blood with yours," JB cautioned.

Buffy jerked her hand away, and let the blood drip onto his laceration instead. *Too late, * she thought. "Why, what would happen?" she asked, casually.

"I'm not sure," JB said, "But it very likely wouldn't be good."

* Great, * thought Buffy, squeezing her hand to make the blood flow quicker. * If I wake up with a severe sun allergy in the morning, Spike's gonna be deader than he already is. * 

Buffy dripped blood onto Spike's arm for a minute more, then she reached over and grabbed a mug from the night stand, allowing her blood to fill it. *Snackies in the morning for Spikey * she thought. Must be the blood loss that was making her strange. When the mug was full, she carried it to the fridge, and went into the bathroom to tend to her latest cut.

She called out to JB "It's OK, I'm done bleeding now." He turned around and smiled at her.

"Buffy," he said, all seriousness now. "There really are things that we have to talk about, but you look exhausted. Besides, I'd rather wait until Spike was awake because he needs to hear them, too. So I'm going to go now," he handed her the room key, "and I'll be back tomorrow evening with some answers. Until then, please try and get some rest."

Buffy nodded as he walked to the door. "Oh, the fruit is for you," he smiled. "You must be hungry."

"Goodnight, and thank you," Buffy said. She walked over to the door after he had closed it, and turned the security lock. A girl couldn't be too careful.

She picked up the gauze and tape and went back over to Spike. She clumsily bandaged his arm, and then went around the room, shutting off all the lights, except for the bathroom light. She left that door almost closed, faintly illuminating the room in case she had to get up in the night. She stripped to her bra and panties and slid under the sheets on Spike's less injured side. She buried her face in his neck, inhaling his familiar Spike scent, now that the coppery blood had been washed from him. The cool touch of his flesh against hers called up ghosts of memories, some good, some not so good.

Why had she treated him as if he were beneath her? Why was it so hard for her to acknowledge him as her lover, her boyfriend, her mate? Why had she cared so much about what other people may think? Why did she need approval to do what she so desperately wanted to do?

* If they don't like what I do, and who I'm with, they can just go to hell, * Buffy thought fiercely. *I'll do what I want, with WHOM I want. I can make my own decisions, dammit!! *

She propped herself on an elbow and stared down at Spike's face in the dim light. He looked so innocent, sleeping. And he really was an innocent inside. He was just beginning to learn about real love and real feelings – not from a vampire's point of view but from a man's. It was his misfortune to love someone like her – someone who couldn't admit their love for him until it was too late.

* Too late? * Buffy thought. * Never!!! For tomorrow is another day!!! *

Buffy fell asleep dreaming of wearing hoop skirts, and Spike in a Rhett Butler outfit.

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TBC

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End file.
